The rain tapped softly against the glass walls of Aziz Designs, London. Inside, Haris Aziz Khan sat behind his sleek mahogany desk, surrounded by blueprints and half-finished models.
His assistant had just left after briefing him about a new project in Dubai - but his mind was somewhere else.
He leaned back in his chair, loosening his tie, eyes tracing the city skyline.
Success - that's what everyone saw when they looked at him. A man who had everything. But behind the calm surface lay a quiet fatigue - the kind only people who have lost something precious ever know.
Just then, his phone rang.
"Abba calling..."
He stared at the screen for a moment before answering.
"Assalam walikum, Abba."
Hilal Aziz Khan's voice carried authority even across oceans.
"Walikum assalam, Haris. Beta, I need you to come home."
"Home?" Haris frowned. "I've meetings lined up here. The new project-"
"This isn't about business," Hilal interrupted firmly.
"It's about family. Hazel's family. You remember them."
For a moment, silence filled the office - broken only by the hum of rain. Memories he thought were buried deep flickered alive: laughter, heartbreak, the day she had walked away.
"Abba," he finally said quietly, "I've built my life here for a reason."
"And now it's time to face what you left behind."
He knew that tone - the one you couldn't say no to.
And so, by the time the rain stopped, Haris had made his decision.
He would go back to Lucknow.
Back to the city that once held his heart.
Back to the girl who didn't even realize she still had it.
When he saw Hazel Ahmed again - tripping over her dupatta, cheeks flushed in embarrassment - something inside him shifted. Irritation, yes... but also a pull he didn't understand.
He told himself it meant nothing.
Just family duty.
Just respect.
Just coincidence.
But deep down, Haris Aziz Khan knew -
some stories are written twice... once by fate, and once by the heart.
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